


be right where you need to be

by MonocerosRex



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Blood, Drugs, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Honestly this is mostly rita/juno friendship feels, Juno Steel and the Road to Forgiveness, M/M, Peter POV, Post-Episode: s02e34-35 Juno Steel and the Soul of the People, Post-Season/Series 02, Reunions, THIS IS A HAPPY FIC, bc that's what i live for, blatant use of the peter nureyev fake name generator, but not bad, decent cooking and bad art, essentially, like you really gotta be wearing your glasses to notice it, naps, the merest suggestion of a plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-12-07 11:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18234245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonocerosRex/pseuds/MonocerosRex
Summary: really this is just a series of vignettes from Peter's POV after the finale, with a focus on Juno's progress throughout season 2, how he's healthier than he was when Peter knew him. don't @ me about the framework, just enjoy the ride.With the slight shakiness of comms footage there was a boy standing on a stage in front of dozens of people. His dark skin and darker eyes were so familiar Peter would know them anywhere, but that huge, mischievous grin wasn’t something he could ever imagine on Juno’s face. This wasn’t Juno twenty six years ago. It was his twin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i have _multiple_ assignments due in the next few days. and i'm hungover. naturally, instead of resting or eating or studying i have written some poor quality jupeter drabbles. enjoy?

The sight of Juno Steel standing there made Peter feel… a lot. But repression was something he had mastered years ago, so he buried his confusing feelings under anger and amusement. Juno’s eye was wide, but Peter couldn’t read anything in it beyond blind shock. He fixed his smirk firmly in place and took a moment to take his ex-lover in.

He didn’t look any older, but there were new scars on his face. Peter hadn’t had time to grow accustomed to the eyepatch before the detective left, and seeing it again was like a blow to the chest. Peter shoved his guilt back down where it belonged.

Finally Juno’s surprise began to fade, just enough for something vulnerable to creep into his one dark eye. Peter suppressed a blink: he’d have bet more than money that Juno would react in self-defensive anger.

Juno’s mouth opened as his took a breath to speak, and Peter found himself leaning forward so as not to miss a syllable.

“Y—”

But whatever Juno had been planning to say was lost under the crack of a laser blast. For the second time in as many minutes Juno’s face went blank, and then he crumpled to his knees with a pained grunt, clutching at his ribs.

“MR STEE—” The secretary screamed, and Juno fisted a bloody hand in her blouse to drag her down beside him, sheltered behind the bulk of Jet’s bike.

“Shit,” Peter heard Buddy swear, breaking him out of his stupor. “Covering fire, darling.”

Her and Vespa stepped out of the belly of the spaceship guns blazing as Juno struggled toward them, shirt already dripping red. Peter ran out to meet him, taking his weight off the tiny woman and dragging them into the ship, no time to register the weight of Juno’s hard body against his once more.

The instant they we safe Peter turned to see Jet swing onto his bike and race out into the desert, chasing some tiny blot in a police uniform.   

Naturally Juno chose that moment to collapse, dragging them both down to the cold metal floor.

“Mr Steel, oh, Mr Steel, you been _shot,_ oh—!” Juno’s companion threw herself to the floor next to his head, hands fluttering uselessly as she wailed.

“Hey, hey, Rita, it's okay, I’ll be okay,” Juno gentled her, reaching up to grasp one of her hands in his bloody one. Peter tried and failed to connect the action with the detective he knew. Rita clung so hard their skin went white. “See that woman with the green hair?” Juno gestured with their twined fingers towards where Buddy and Vespa were racing back in to the ship. “She’s a doctor.”

“A good one? Because Mr Steel, I don’t mean to be rude to your friends but I ain’t never met her before, and a laser to the chest ain’t exactly a little case of brightflu, you know—”

Juno huffed a laugh but it turned into a cough, dark blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“That is not good,” Vespa said gravely as they reached them.

“That a medical diagnosis, doc?” Juno rasped around another cough.

“Fuck yes. Shit. I need my kit, Bud, and it’ll be faster if I get it. Can you—?”

“Of course darling.” Vespa sprinted off as Buddy fell to her knees by Juno’s side and ruthlessly pressed down on his ribs with both hands. The blood stood out starkly where it stained her pale skin and Peter flinched.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Juno choked as she touched him, his face screwed up in pain.

“Hush. It’s your own fault for getting shot.”

“How is that— _ngh!_ —my fault?” Juno gasped.

“I haven’t a clue, but I know you well enough to know it somehow is.” This made Juno laugh, though it must have hurt him.

He still hadn’t released Rita’s hand.

“Mr Steel, you—you can’t die on me, ya hear? I ain’t gonna be left alone in the desert with a bunch of strangers and your dead body like the end of _Sunsets Over Venus,_ we been through too much together for you to die here like this—”

“Yeah, Rita we have,” Juno interrupted, opening his eye just enough to look up at her tear-streaked face. “I don’t plan on dying, okay? I’m not leaving you.” Peter stared, shocked by Juno’s sincerity. What had happened in those two years? How much had Juno changed? “Besides.” Juno’s gaze slid over to Peter’s, the eye contact zinging through him like a livewire. “Can’t check out until this one’s had a chance to yell at me.”

“ _Juno,_ ” Peter heard himself say, and couldn’t bring himself to care that his voice cracked, betraying him.

“Buddy!” Vespa called ahead as she ran back into the room. Buddy’s hands lifted away from Juno’s skin and he hissed in pain. She began unbuttoning his shirt with bloody fingers as Vespa skidded to her knees beside them.

“Buddy, your wife is right there,” Juno quipped weakly, his voice strained.

“Shit, he’s lost a lot of blood.” Vespa opened what looked like a toolbox and pulled out a vaccine gun. Rita keeled over backwards in a dead faint. “I’m gonna knock you out, Steel, so you don’t move while I’m trying to work.”

“Yeah,” he agreed faintly, his eyes still closed. Vespa pressed the gun against his thigh and fired a shot of anaesthetic into the muscle. “Hey.” Juno cracked his good eye just a sliver so he could look at Peter. “What’s your name?”

“Archimedes Bell,” Peter croaked, finding it inexplicably difficult to breathe.

Juno closed his eye again with a tired smile. “Suits you…” he whispered as the sedative took him under.

“Archy. Darling. _Bell._ ” Peter blinked, dragging his eyes away from Juno’s face, still tense even in sleep.

“Yes, Buddy dear?”

“Get Rita out of here, and… maybe a shower, darling.” She gestured to his body and Peter looked down to find his once white shirt clinging wetly to his ribs, his pants soaked through with red. His own blood ran cold at the sight.

“...yes. Yes. I’ll…” Peter glanced back up at Buddy and couldn’t resist the urge to ask— “You’ll look after him, won’t you?”

Buddy stared back at him calculatingly, but her eyes were soft as she nodded once.

Peter finally stood, limbs stiff though he’d only been kneeling a few minutes. He scooped Rita easily off the floor an carried her into the ship proper, biting his lip so that he wouldn’t look back.

If he didn’t see Juno’s body crumpled in a claret puddle, looking so small and so still against the vast red desert outside, then it couldn’t haunt him.


	2. Chapter 2

“No darling, put your foot more—that’s better than it was, but—”

“A little more to the left,” Peter corrected. “And look up!”

“I _know,_ I’ll look up once I've got it—”

“Don’t snap, my love, you’re doing very well—”

“I’m not and you know it. Why can’t Bell just do this, I can pick pockets just _fine_ —”

“It’s a little more complicated than picking pockets, Vespa darling. We only need to dance one dance, I’m certain you can do it—”

“Uh…” Peter found his attention dragged unwillingly away from the dance lesson to where Juno stood in the doorway looking surprised. Peter brushed away a frisson of annoyance with himself—since the moment the detective stepped foot onto the ship Peter hadn’t been able to suppress his instinctual reaction to him, like a flower to the sun.

“Mr Steel! Ms Aurinko is teachin' Ms Örnsdottir to dance for the heist tonight! It’s just like _Troubling Times in Sky City_ , only in that one the two leads aren’t already married, they’re actually enemies because—”

“Dancing?” Juno asked, skilfully redirecting Rita before she could lose her train of thought.

“Oh! Yes! Well, the only people here who can dance are Ms Aurinko and Mr Bell, but Mr Bell is the only one who can get into the safe and out again without being caught so he can’t be Ms Aurinko’s partner, but without a couple to dance in the competition there’s no way for us to get in and Ms Örnsdottir really, _really_ doesn’t like dancin' and between you and me boss I can see why because she isn’t very good at it—”

“Now you see here, you—”

“AHH! Ms Örnsdottir, don’t—”

“Settle down darling she’s just—”

As the dance lesson devolved into a lighthearted scuffle Peter kept his gaze on Juno. His eye had grown distant as he contemplated something only he could see.

“Okay, okay! We’re never going to get anywhere if you keep trying to fight people, Vespa.”

“We’re never going to get anywhere _either way._ There’s no way I’ll get good enough to fool a panel of judges into thinking I’m a professional by tonight.”

Peter watched as Juno closed his eye for a moment, and then sighed. “I’ll do it,” he declared, sounding resigned and a little sad.

“Wha—boss! You never told me you could dance!”

“ _Can_ he?” Vespa asked in disbelief.

“Better than you,” he shot back, seeming almost relieved by the antagonistic words.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Buddy said, stepping away from her wife and extending her hand to Juno.

Swallowing something unidentifiable back Juno hesitated before taking it and stepping into the leading position.

“A Martian waltz?” He confirmed, and Buddy nodded. Peter could almost see him count himself in.

Mindful of his healing ribs he spun Buddy around the main deck with the ease of long practice. The footwork was often quick but after a few early mistakes Juno fell into it, as if it were coming back to him. There was no music, but it was still hypnotic to watch the rhythm of their steps.

“Mr _Steel!_ ” Rita screamed in delight.

“You dance quite well, darling,” Buddy complemented.

Juno shrugged uncomfortably. “I just know the steps.”

“To my surprise,” she needled slyly. “And where’d you learn those?”

Juno blinked and looked away. “...my brother was a dancer,” he offered at length, and Peter felt his heart clench. He couldn’t help but file this little tidbit away, that part of him that refused to get over Juno greedily absorbing this rare fact about his past.

“He’d have to be a hell of a dancer to teach _you_ ,” Vespa grumbled.

“Hey! The boss dances like a delicate butterfly on a dawn breeze and I won’t hear no more about it!”

Juno groaned. “I appreciate you defending my honour, Rita, but do you think you could compare me to something a little less ridiculous?”

“What? You two ladies look great together, like nothin’ I ever seen! Like a butterfly! Which I ain’t never seen!”

“You’ve never seen a butterfly?” Peter asked her, pretending not to notice the way Juno glanced at him and then away.

“Not ever. I hear the Saffron Prince of Mars has a whole room full of ‘em though, pinned to the walls like flowers!”

“Not likely, Julian hates insects,” Juno cut in dryly as Buddy whirled them closer to the conversation.

“I don’t know about His Highness’ collection—” Juno snorted at the epithet and Peter ruthlessly pretended it didn’t make him warm inside “—but on Earth they have enormous glass buildings filled with living butterflies in every colour, like shimmering jewels floating through the air.”

“Ohhhhhh…” Rita said, staring at him with huge eyes. “Reeeeally?”

“Really.”

“That sounds AMAZIN’ Mr Bell, you’ve seen some really cool things!”

“Some,” Peter agreed affably, and Juno rolled his eyes. “I think I’m witnessing something amazing right now. _I_ certainly didn’t know you were such a fine dancer, Dahlia dearest.”

Juno scowled. “I’m _not_ I just _know the_ —”

“You’ve said that already, darling,” Buddy interrupted, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“I’m not ‘a dancer’,” Juno insisted grumpily.

“I’ll say,” Vespa sulked

“All evidence to the contrary,” Buddy teased and Juno glared at her. “I hope you’ll smile more on the night, darling. You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.”

Juno’s prickly expression slipped, and for a moment he looked like he’d been hit. And then his mouth twisted wryly and he sighed through his nose. “You sound just like Benten.”

Buddy raised a brow. “How so, darling?”

Juno’s smile grew wistful, and Peter found himself holding his breath. “‘Dancing’s supposed to be _fun,_ Super Steel’,” he mocked, his voice a little rough. “‘No one’ll believe we’re twins if you have frown lines by the time we’re 20’.”

 _Twins._ Peter’s breath hitched, and he knew his face was betraying him. He couldn’t believe what the detective was offering. He recalled the fierce refusal he’d experienced when he’d asked about Juno’s brother. Buddy was laughing, not knowing ‘Benten’ was dead, not knowing what a rare gift she had just received. Glancing away in order to school his expression Peter found himself faced with Rita’s assessing gaze, so different from her innocent joy at the story about butterflies.

Of course she knew Juno had a dead twin. And now she knew that Peter knew. She frowned like someone faced with a puzzle, and Peter looked back at the couple, unwilling to give anything else away.

***

The heist went perfectly. Juno had looked distressingly beautiful in his suit, memories of a card game haunting Peter as he broke into the vault. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or grateful to miss seeing Juno and Buddy perform. When he’d returned to collect them, the plans tucked safely into his jacket, Juno had looked a million miles away. Something in his eyes reminded Peter of the tomb.

Not that Peter was getting involved. Juno had made it perfectly clear where the line was, and comforting him about his dead brother didn’t make the cut.

So he didn’t know why he was going for a glass of water in the middle of the night. He’d never done it before. What was he hoping to find?

If it was Juno sitting on the counter with his feet stretched out before him and a half a bottle of whiskey beside then he was lucky. Peter winced and brushed past to just get that damn glass of water and forget this ever happened when he heard it. Laughter. A child’s voice.

He glanced over, just a glance—and saw it. In Juno’s lap, his comms, playing a recording from more than twenty years ago.

With the slight shakiness of comms footage there was a boy standing on a stage in front of dozens of people. His dark skin and darker eyes were so familiar Peter would know them anywhere, but that huge, mischievous grin wasn’t something he could ever imagine on Juno’s face. This wasn’t Juno twenty six years ago. It was his twin.

Curiosity killed the sandcat. Peter walked to the counter and Juno wordlessly turned up the volume.

_“And the winner is…. Benzaiten Steel!”_

_“Woohoo! Benny!”_ Cried a boy from beside the filmer _._

Juno’s twin stepped up to the lectern after shaking the principal's hand and grinned out over the crowd.

_“Hello, everyone! I’d like to thank Juno Steel, for being the world’s worst dance partner and motivating me to get into this school with all the times he stepped on my toes—”_

_“Hey_ fuck _you!”_ Shouted the filmer, and despite the mask of youth obscuring it Peter instantly recognised Juno’s voice.

 _“And also,”_ Benzaiten continued more seriously, _“for telling me not to give up when I was so tired I could die. For helping me to pay for my tuition at this awesome school.”_ He smiled with heartbreaking sincerity directly into the camera. _“And for coming to all of my competitions without fail, no matter how dumb he thinks dancing is. Thanks, Super Steel.”_

 _“Fuck off, Ben,”_ past-Juno grumbled, and it was the exact same embarrassed response to genuine emotion as he had now.

_“Hey, get up here, take a picture with me. I never could have done it without you.”_

A familiar, put-upon sigh from past-Juno, and then _“Hey Sash, could you film for a second.”_

 _“Smile for the camera, Jay.”_ Peter’s hair stood on end at the sound of Agent W’s voice, rendered almost unrecognisable by its teasing lilt.

_“Eat me.”_

Juno stepped into the frame. It was just the back of him, but Peter couldn’t believe the lightness of his shoulders, how much heavier his footfalls were in the present. He joined his brother on the podium and they had the same face, but where Benzaiten’s smile was wide and a little sly, Juno’s was barely there, peaking out of the corner of his mouth as he looked at his twin. They couldn’t have been more than thirteen, but they looked at one another like—like life was a raging rapid, and they were each other’s oars.

 _“Don’t believe a word of it,”_ Juno told the crowd more than twenty years ago. _“Benten got here because he’s a stubborn jackass who would rather practice his moves at three am than let the rest of us get a decent night’s sleep—”_ Benzaiten shoved Juno and Juno turned it into a headlock a teacher had to bodily separate. Benzaiten threw an arm around Juno’s neck and grinned at the cameras while Juno rolled his eyes, and then the principal was presenting them with a small piece of paper; a cheque. Juno was closer and he took it, holding it in front so they could both read it.

 _“Damn,”_ said past-Juno.

 _“50 creds!”_ Exclaimed Benzaiten.

A no doubt incomprehensible fortune to a pair of Oldtown kids. It was comical, their identical expressions of wide-eyed disbelief as they stared at the cheque. Their eyes lifted to each other’s and—Peter had been wrong. Juno could make that mischievous smile after all.

“What did you spend it on?” Peter heard himself ask as the recording stopped itself, the two boys frozen staring at each other like they could do anything as long as it was together.

“We went to the zoo and paid to ride on the sarcosuchus.” Juno’s voice wasn’t slurred by drink or tears. He just sounded… tired. “And stole it.”

“Stole it?” Peter blurted in surprise.

“Yeah. Just rode the thing straight out the gate and into the street.” Peter found himself breathing out a laugh, perfectly able to picture those two brothers getting up to such a thing. “Made it all the way home too, before the cops caught up. Mom locked us in the attic for three days, but…” He smiled like broken glass, helplessly. “We were so damn proud of ourselves.”

Peter stared at Juno for a long moment. He was resting his head back against the wall, his eyes closed. He was slightly taller than Peter sitting up on the bench, and Peter could see every one of his lashes.

“I have hundreds of hours of video, you know?” Juno’s voice was like gravel. “Hundreds. And I’ve never watched one before.”

And Peter had never been very good at self control. “How did he die?”

Juno didn’t flinch at the non sequitur. His eye flicked open but he didn’t look at Peter, gaze focused on something eons past. “She thought he was me.” The words were terrible, and they fell into the dark kitchen like stones. Peter physically flinched. Juno’s throat clicked on a swallow, and a single tear tracked its way down his cheek. He closed his eye again. “She thought he was me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, this thing is not cohesive _at all_. but uh, leave a comment anyway? i'm extremely stressed and need some lovin :/


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all are all _fucking_ superheroes, i swear to god. i can't tell you how much all those comments meant to me, i can't believe it. so many! you guys are amazing and you honest to god saved my life this week. thank you.
> 
> this chapter in particular is dedicated to Pierogis4days, who requested juno cooking and angst. not as much angst as they may have hoped, but next chapter is gonna be suuuper angsty in subject matter, so take your fluff where you can get it. and i threw in rita cuddles bc life is hard, you guys, life is super hard and sometimes i just want nice things.

“Rita? What’s wrong?” Peter looked up from his book at the sound of Juno’s gruff concern.

Rita was sitting curled up on the couch typing on her computer. Now that he was paying attention, she did look a little despondent. 

“Oh, nothin’ Mr Steel. Just a bit homesick, is all.” It was strange hearing her voice at a normal human volume. 

Juno glanced out the window reflexively, his own mouth twisting at the sparkling black void outside. “Yeah,” he sighed in agreement. Peter wondered what that felt like.

“I miss the smell, you know? Space smells like nothin’ at all.”

Juno snorted and leaned against the arm of the couch to regard her. “The smell? Of all the things I miss the  _ smell _ is not one of them.”

“Well, what do ya miss, boss?” 

“I don’t know, Rita. Home, I guess.”

“Your apartment ain’t even that nice.”

“Maybe not. But it’s mine.” Peter watched his eye go distant, the sad smile tugging at the corner of Juno’s mouth, and felt something in him ache. 

Perhaps it felt something like this. 

“What about you, Mr Bell? You got somethin’ you miss?”

Peter’s gaze cut involuntarily across to Juno, and it wasn’t lost on the detective. His own eye grew wide, his lips parting in quiet shock. Peter turned back to Rita before he could see what expression would follow. “There are a great many places I miss, Rita dear. The magma falls of XK27 are particularly spectacular.”

Rita smiled and nodded, but there was none of the usual bombastic excitement Peter’s stories typically engendered in her. “They sound real nice, Mr Bell. Mars ain’t got nothin' like that. Frannie says there’re hot springs on Olympus Mons but that’s too expensive for what I get paid,  _ boss _ .” Rita shot Juno a prim look.

“Hey, I’m the sidekick now, take it up with Buddy.” Rita made a face at him and Juno looked unrepentant, but the sense of quiet melancholy still pervaded the living room. 

There was a lull in the conversation—not something usually experienced by those conversing with Rita. Juno shifted, obviously acutely aware this was unusual behaviour. 

“Do you, ah…” Juno sighed, martyring himself. “Could you show me one of your streams, Rita?”

Rita’s eyes went round like saucers. “What? Really, boss?”

“Yeah,” Juno voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh why not. Nothing else to do out here, I guess.”

“Mr Steel I been waitin’ for you to say that for almost twenty years!” Peter blinked. “But…” For a moment Rita had had some of her spark back, but now she deflated again. “It ain’t really the same without snacks…”

Juno looked determined. “How do you feel about sand cakes?” 

“Sand cakes! I ain’t had one in months, Mr Steel, they’re one of my favourites. Oh, why you gotta bring up Martian desserts, boss, now I’m even sadder!”

“No, wait, I meant—how about I make us some?”

Rita whipped towards him, her computer almost falling off her lap. “ _ Make  _ some?! Mr Steel!”

“Yeah, I… Buddy has most of the ingredients, I think. I can make it work.”

“Oh, oh! Mr Steel, that sounds so good! And then we can watch  _ The Buffet Disaster,  _ that movie always makes me hungry, it’ll be  _ perfect! _ ” 

Juno groaned and walked out, but Peter couldn’t deny how good it was to see some light back in Rita’s eyes.

Peter stopped pretending to read his book and followed Juno into the kitchen. 

He was on his knees, head inside into a cupboard that seemed to contain mostly cleaning products. He came back out with a canister and set it on the counter among a growing pile of mismatched ingredients. 

“Martian food is certainly… unique.” Peter said, examining a can of crushed tomatoes. “This is a dessert, you say?”

“Yeah.” Juno set a large bowl on the counter and gestured to the can in Peter’s hand. “That’s what the fruit is for.” 

“I see. It doesn’t… have actual sand in it, does it?”

“These days most people just use eggshells to mimic the texture—I’m joking, Nureyev.” Peter didn’t know what expression he’d been making but if it was enough to get Juno to smirk at him like that then it was worth the embarrassment. 

“Ah.”

Juno’s eye danced.

A companionable silence fell over the kitchen as Juno worked. Peter settled into a chair and luxuriated in it.

In all the time they’d spent together before there’d been no time to just  _ be  _ together. The unbearable domesticity of watching Juno bake warmed places in Peter he hadn’t known were cold.

“You and Rita have known one another for twenty years?” Peter asked. Something told him that for once Juno might answer.

“Yeah,” Juno grunted. “She worked at the same precinct as me, back when I was a cop. Honestly she’s half the reason I made detective.” Juno shrugged. “Not my fault no one else would use her for anything worth doing. When I… left, she left with me. Basically bullied me into becoming a private eye, bought a building and everything.” Juno smiled to himself. “Been together ever since, even though I haven’t made it easy on her.” 

“People will stick around through a lot for someone they love,” Peter said softly.

Juno breathed out like he was too tired to sigh, staring into the batter as if it showed his reflection.

“Not,” he rasped, his shoulders heavy, “in my experience.”

Peter opened his mouth to reply, with what he didn’t know, when they were interrupted.  

_ “MR STEEL, I’M STARTIN’ IT.” _

Juno started and turned to glare at the door. “I’ll come when these are in the oven!” He called, trying and failing to sound annoyed.

_ “MR STEEL, HURRY! YOU’RE MISSING THE ELEPHANT WEDDING!” _

Juno huffed and looked in her direction with a weary kind of love. “Rita’s the exception.” 

It wasn’t an apology. It was only one part of an explanation. It was so much more than Peter was expecting.

“She's certainly one of a kind.” He rose, leaving Juno to finish the cooking, but paused in the doorway to glance back over his shoulder. “But you know, Juno.” The detective paused in the act of pouring batter, though he didn’t look up. “I am rather exceptional myself.” Peter ducked back into the darkened living room before he could read Juno’s expression.

***

What Peter could make out of the movie from his chair by the window was completely bizarre. Rita had thrown cakes at him with deadly accuracy until he consented to try one, curious despite himself to try Juno’s cooking. It was a surprisingly pleasant, if singular, flavour, and even more delicious was how embarrassed it made Juno when he said so. 

From what Peter could tell the movie was about five hours long. Not even two hours in Rita’s eyes were already slipping closed, her body slumping towards Juno’s on the couch. By two and a half hours she was well and truly nested into his side, clinging to his arm like a child. To Peter’s amazement Juno allowed this, even shifting so her neck would be in a more comfortable position. 

He was watching the movie with a kind of masochistic pleasure, every line of overblown dialogue making his expression more outraged. He seemed to have completely forgotten Peter was there.

But no matter how much he had changed in the years since Peter had known him, Juno was still sleep deprived. By the third hour of the movie his head had slipped down to rest on top of Rita’s. His eyes were still slitted open as he stared indulgently at the screen, absorbing the familiar sights and sounds of his home planet. 

“Mmm, Mr Steel, I don’ wanna go in the oven…”

“Then don’t,” he told her, finally closing his eyes.

“Oh… okay boss… g’night.”

“Good night.”

For a long moment Peter watched the two Martians sleep curled around each other, taking in Juno’s miraculously unlined face. Moving as silently as he had stealing the safe keys from under Empress Penelope’s pillow Peter snuck out, pausing in the doorway to turn up the thermostat.

In the moment before the door slid shut behind him, Peter heard a quiet sigh. “Night, Nureyev.”

Peter’s breath caught at the sleep roughened voice he had never before been allowed to hear.

“Good night, Juno.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew, wrote that all in two big rushes so it is lazy and bad, but eh. this whole fic has been classic by-the-seat-of-my-pants writing and i see no reason to stop and make it GoodTM now. 
> 
> y'all, i really can't tell you how much that huge outpouring of comments made me feel last chapter. it was... a lot, okay? and it was honestly the only reason this chapter got written. if you want more then save me from self-destructing from uni stress and motivate me to keep up with this self-indulgent little mess by telling me what you liked? love you all :,)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> should i let this percolate overnight and read it through again in the morning? definitely. am i going to ignore my own advice and post it now, at 1:30am, knowingly subjecting you all to trash? i sure as shit am. 
> 
> please note this chapter contains drug use, please see end notes for more detailed warnings.

The Murmuring Palace exuded a kind of glossy class that made one forget what one was doing was illegal. The clientele had enough money to make any arrests go away even on this respectable moon, but they didn’t like to be reminded that it was an option. Their target had a taste for drugs and stolen art, and frequented the establishment most nights.

He also happened to have once worked in a robotics lab for Ramses O'Flaherty.

Ever the detective Juno had established that Peter would not suit this man’s tastes, so he and Juno were stuck guarding the door as Buddy seduced the information they needed out of Xenobia Cheng. Peter watched the faces Juno made with amusement as they overheard everything through their shared comms link.

 _“Oh yes, darling, just like that…”_ She purred in their ears, and Vespa growled from her place on the rooftop.

Juno scrunched his nose in disgust and Peter opened his mouth to tease him when they both heard it.

A footfall, the squeak of the door handle. Someone was entering Cheng’s rooms.

Peter tensed and his eyes flicked over the several hiding places and escape routes he had compulsively established upon entering the suite, but none would allow Juno to disappear with him. Their eyes met for a moment and Juno jerked his head, silently telling Peter to go. Even in this moment of crisis it made Peter’s heart clench that Juno knew him well enough to have guessed he had a way out, and for a moment he was tempted. Old habits were hard to break, and he might be their only chance to get backup.

But the way Juno’s hand curled around the space where his blaster should be, the stony determination he wore like a favourite gown, rooted Peter to the floor. He wasn’t going to leave the lady behind.

Juno read this resolution off his face in the split second before the door opened and his eye grew wide with confusion.

“The fuck? What the hell are you doing in here?”

 _“Steel? What’s going on?”_ Vespa snapped, but they had no way to respond.

The man was tall and lean, wearing a loud suit and a narrowness of the eyes that reminded Peter of a weasel. His fingertips were stained blue as they reached for his comms and his blaster. A Zed user.

No, Peter thought, trusting his instincts. A dealer.

Juno seemed to have made the same assessment. Before Peter had time to open his mouth to lie Juno was speaking. “We’re trying to get on,” he said casually, voice at odds with the tension Peter could sense humming through him. “Heard I could get a gill here.”

It worked. The man’s squint didn’t relax but his hands moved back to his sides. “A gill? You got the creds for that?” He looked the pair over judgmentally and Peter bristled.

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” he drawled, drawing a diamond necklace he’s been unable to resist lifting earlier from his pocket. The dealer’s eyebrows went up into his hairline. He put his hand back to his comms and muttered something into it, Juno watching him a little too closely.

 _“I cannot ascertain what is going on,”_ Jet stated over the comms as they waited.

 _“Sounds like Steel’s doing a drug deal,”_ Vespa sneered, but it couldn’t mask her concern. Buddy’s voice had long since dissolved into grunts and sighs.

Mere moments later someone rapped on the door, the weasel sliding it open long enough to receive a metal case the size of his palm.

He clicked it open to reveal four rows of glittering glass vials, tipped in metal and filled with fluorescent blue liquid.

The dealer’s long fingers plucked one out and tossed it to Juno, who caught it out of the air with a sharp movement that almost disguised how his hands were trembling.

Peter blinked and tore his eyes away from the dealer to examine his companion. A bead of sweat was caught at the tip of Juno’s eyebrow, his pupil wide and dark.

He held the cylinder up to the light and examined it briefly before holding it out to the weasel.

The dealer stared back. “What, you’re not gonna try it?”

Juno clenched his jaw. “Spark is spark, big guy,” he rasped. “I only care about getting tweaked.”

That was the wrong answer. The weasel’s face grew once again pinched with suspicion, his hand twitching towards his blaster. “You’re a cop,” he declared.

“Do I look like a fucking cop?” Juno demanded scornfully, and though he knew of Juno’s years on the force Peter almost believed him. “You think I smell like bacon?”

“I’m beginning to wonder why you were in _here_ if you ain’t even gonna try it.” The dealer drew himself up to his considerable height.

“God you’re paranoid,” Juno muttered, and Peter could hear the strain underneath it. “Fine.” His voice cracked. “Load ‘em.”

“ _What the fuck, Steel! You better not get high on a job!”_ Vespa cried in their ears.

 _“I must agree with Ms Örnsdottir, that does not seem to be a wise course of action,_ ” Jet weighed in.

The weasel dug in his pocket and drew out a chrome tube. He slotted one of the vials into the tool and pressed it against the side of his neck. There was a pressurised hiss as the Zed shot into his bloodstream. Peter heard Juno’s breath catch.

Dropping the empty cartridge to the floor the man tossed the sleek apparatus to Juno, who this time barely made the catch. The dealer turned to walk towards a chair and Juno took the moment to throw Peter a wild, desperate look.

Taking an idea from escape plan #14 Peter wandered towards the bookcase opposite as Juno rolled up his sleeve, the loaded device held in his teeth. With casual interest Peter examined a small painting, picking it up for a better look and allowing it to slip through his fingers.

“Oops!” He said as the weasel jolted out of his chair at the crash. “Clumsy me.”

“Hey!”

“Terribly sorry, my dear man, my hand must have slipped.”

“What? Aries?” Juno asked, and Peter turned to see him holding an empty tube.

“Nothing my dear, I just knocked this darling little portrait to the ground. Quite smashed it, I’m afraid.” As he spoke Peter quickly looked the detective over, trying to establish if he had taken the drug, but the pained look on his face as he rolled down his sleeve could mean anything.

His hands were still trembling.

He blinked at Peter slowly, and Peter’s heart sank. “You’re an idiot.” His voice was like honey, thick and sweet, but the truth was bitter in Peter’s mouth. “Can we go now? I need to be home.”

 _“And when we get there I’m gonna_ kick your ass!” Vespa shouted, but her voice was taught with fear.

“Certainly,” Peter said, keeping his posture relaxed. He tossed the necklace on the table.

“Yeah…” Mused the dealer. “That’ll get you a jigger.”

Peter had no idea how much that was, but he knew it was a test. The dealer was still wary, and nothing was more suspicious than taking the first deal. Peter bit his lip.

“A jigger?” Juno growled, surprising Peter. He hadn’t expected him to pick up on that subtlety in his condition. “That’s worth a fucking gill _at least_. Don’t try and cheat me.”

“You’re paying in _jewels,_ ” The dealer scorned. “That causes me a lotta problems. Gotta find a fence, make sure they ain’t marked… this is your tax for not using creds.”

“That’s bullshit. I told you, twenty bullets.”

“J and a half, then. And don’t ask again cause you ain’t getting any more.”

Juno scowled but Peter thought he saw relief in the slump of his shoulders. “Fine,” he growled. “Hand it over.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” the dealer rolled his eyes.

 _“Pleasure doing business with you,”_ Buddy whispered huskily, and Peter knew a sign when he heard one.

Juno swiped the Zed off the table and walked out. “Did you get what you needed?” He asked Buddy gruffly.

 _“I did, yes,”_ she responded under her breath, her comms picking up the faint sounds of snoring.

“Good,” he said curtly.

_“Good? How are you supposed to protect Buddy if you’re sparked out of your brain, asshole?”_

“Juno is quite sober, Vespa dear, don’t worry,” Peter interjected with certainty. The detective’s act had been distressingly good, but he had dropped it the moment they stepped into the fluorescent light of the hallway. “It was merely a bid to buy time.”

 _“And it worked very well, Juno Steel,”_ Jet boomed. _“How did you know how to conduct such a transaction?”_

“How do you think I know?” Juno’s snapped. He glanced at Peter, who did not bother to mask his expression. The detective’s shoulders hunched and he licked his lips. “A kid all alone on the streets of Oldtown.” His voice was rough. “Not a lot of other ways for that to go.”

Peter was saved from having to think up a response by a familiar shriek.

“Oh Mr Steel!” Rita cried as the team met on the sidewalk. “What happened?! Did you get the—” Juno pushed past her to the gutter and dumped out the case of narcotics, crushing the little vials beneath his boot.

“Is that…” Rita’s voice was small.

“Zed,” Buddy confirmed. Juno turned and led the way to the car without looking back. They walked in silence.

“Is this gonna be a problem?” Vespa asked eventually. Her expression was severe, but Juno’s eyes stayed forward.

“No. I got clean years ago.”

“YEAH!” Rita screeched, making up for her minute of silence with sheer volume. “All by himself! He was very strong, and brave, and a very strong brave lady!”

Some of the tension finally leaked out of Juno’s shoulders and he looked down at the small woman with a wry smile.

“Thanks, Rita.”

She beamed back, proud. “Ya welcome, boss.”

***

"That," said Buddy, "is hideous."

"I'm perfectly certain it's a genuine Kazakh, my dear."

"I've no doubt. But it doesn't make it any more attractive." 

The team were lounging around after their mission, examining the small canvas Peter had pocketed in the Palace. "Not even if I told you what it's worth?"

"I'm happier not knowing."

"It  _is_ an odd little thing, wouldn't you say Mr Steel? Looks kind of like if a teapot could be a lawyer." Rita passed it to Juno, who frowned down at it. "Reminds me of Mrs Pinkerton's penguinhound, with all those legs."

Juno nodded slowly. "I love it," he rumbled.

"You  _do?_ " Buddy asked in horror.

Vespa snorted. "Good to know your taste in art is as trashy a the rest of you, Steel."

Peter was quite sure he'd never heard Juno express honest enjoyment in anything before. Impulsively he spoke. "It's yours."

Juno blinked up at him. "But, isn't it worth, like... a lot?"

"A little more than that, my dear," Peter drawled. "But I hardly need the creds. If you like it, you can have it."

Juno gazed down at the painting. "I... thank you."

"You're welcome, detective." Peter felt a flush of unfamiliar pride at having brought Juno even some small happiness. And if he imagined him hanging the gift on his bedroom wall and thinking of Peter whenever he saw it, well, nobody was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this contains a mix of slang from every drug we have in the present, old timey alcohol measurements, and a whole mess of made up ~future slang~. yay. i'm sure it's terrible. 
> 
> my essay is due _tomorrow_ and i spent half of today having a stressful conversation with my ex instead of writing it so NOW MORE THAN EVER i need your sweet words to get me through. which would be an easier request to make if this chapter were better but REGARDLESS hit me up babes i need validation.
> 
> warnings: drug use by a minor character, a drug deal goes down, juno's past addiction is discussed


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hell yeah, more content. sorry it took so long y'all, it's that time of the semester, and it turns out when you put off writing work reports in favour of assignments they're still there after you've handed your essays in :/ homophobia at its finest.
> 
> this is kind of bizarre bc it's like 99% dialogue? i have no idea why, it just came out like that. I seriously have no control over this thing it just writes itself however it wants with no regard to _~my vision~_.
> 
> anyway, it's here, it's queer, i hope you like it???

In the end it was Rita who voiced what they were all thinking.

“So… what are we gonna do with it?”

Peter regarded the drive sitting on the table commanding the undivided attention of their entire motley crew. It seemed too small a thing to hold the freedom of an entire city. Nothing like a Guardian Angel System. Just a few documents on a tiny, delicate drive.

“You could broadcast it over the city?” Vespa suggested. 

Juno shook his head. “All the broadcast channels are owned by gangsters, and there’s no way they’d allow something like this.” Juno’s expression darkened and Peter didn’t bother to suppress the way it made him feel. “It would negatively impact their profits.”

“Something underground, then. Is there someone you know with connections? Someone honest?”

“Honesty is a pretty unusual trait in Hyperion City.” Juno’s face was grim. “At least among the living.”

“An authority, then. There must be at least  _ one  _ trustworthy person in government?”

“Are you joking? No.” Juno let out a careful breath as he stared at the drive. “Everybody I trust is in this room right now.” It was hardly a declaration, but Peter’s heart jumped anyway. 

“Now, that ain’t fair boss,” Rita’s loud voice broke the somber spell hanging over the kitchen. “You got friends. That Mr Mercury would never betray you. I mean, not on purpose. He might by accident. He probably  _ would,  _ actually, but you know, in friendship it’s the thought that counts—” Rita continued to ramble on but Peter tuned her out, distracted by the look on Juno’s face. He was staring at Rita like she’d handed him a birthday present and he was listening for the ticking. “—ya get me, boss?” She finished at last, miraculously not out of breath. 

“You know Rita,” Juno said slowly. “I think I do. You wouldn’t be able to get a signal back to Mars, wouldja? I think… I have a couple calls to make.”

“Oh sure boss, I could do that. Piggy back off a few government satellites, use the ship’s system to boost the signal—should be no problem.” 

“Well while you’re hacking into those satellites, get me Sasha’s number, would you?”

“Can do Mr Steel, although I expect a whole plate of locust sausage in exchange; that woman always yells at me.”

“Rita if you pull this off I’ll mince the damn bug myself. One more thing, though.”

“Yeeeah?” Rita eyed him suspiciously.

“I need you to find Cassandra Kanagawa.”

“YES!”

***

After several rounds of questioning were met with no answers the team trickled out once Rita set Juno up. 

Everyone except Peter. He pulled himself up on the counter where Juno had sat all those nights ago, one leg dangling and the the knee drawn up, his chin resting in his palm as he watched Juno pace. 

_ “Who is this? _ ” Said a voice on the other end of Juno’s comms. It was vaguely familiar, but Peter couldn’t place it. _ “Oh god, you’re not with the school board, are you? I swear, I had no idea those textbooks were gonna wipe people's minds like that, they were supposed to help you remember stuff better! I could have sworn it was going to work—” _

“Mick, it’s me.”

“ _ Jay-Jay! Hi! Oh man, is it good to hear your voice! I know you said you were going away to teach people about that old Earth god but I thought ‘just wait, Mercury, he’ll be back, he’d never leave you to fight off an army of robot librarians by yourself—’,” _

“Mick I said  _ ‘mission’— _ never mind, listen, I need your help.”

_ “ _ You _ need  _ my _ help? Well! I knew this day would come, buddy, just you wait, I’m the best dang guitar teacher this city has ever seen.” _

“No, Mick, I—since when do you even  _ play _ the guitar?” Juno scrubbed a hand over his face but Peter could see the deflection for what it was. 

Juno was having fun. 

“I need your help saving Hyperion City.”

_ “Saving the city? Is it in danger? Oh jeez, are we gonna be flattened by an asteroid? Or is it worms? Oh man, I  _ knew _ it was gonna be worms, I was just telling Sash—” _ And it clicked for Peter where he’d heard the voice before. Cheering Benzaiten on in Juno’s video. Their childhood friend.

“Not that kind of save. Mick,”  slow smile spread over Juno’s face, “I need you to tell a story.”

***

“Vicky? It’s Juno Steel. ...shut up. I’ve got something good for you and it’s going cheap. How would you like a genuine Vance Kazakh painting, straight from the Murmuring Palace? ...that’s the one. It made the news? Jesus… Of course I’m serious. Like I said, it’s going cheap. All I want from you is some whispers. You’ve got the connections; spread some rumours for me and I’ll give you the painting gratis. Heck, I’ll even wrap it for you. I just want the city to know: three nights from now there’s gonna be a broadcast, and it’s gonna change Hyperion City forever. …yes, shut up, you and I both know dramatic rumours do better. Yeah yeah; Newtown, Pereyra, the Freedome, Jack Taccano; the answer to all Hyperion City's mysteries. I don’t care, Vick, just get them to watch the show. …if it is, the joke’s on me.”

***

“Hey Captain Kahn,” Juno said slyly.

_ “Wha—Steel? How the fresh hockey sticks did you get my number?” _

“I asked my secretary to hack into the HCPD’s personnel files.” Juno smirked, looking about a decade younger.

_ “YOU DID WHAT? STEEL! What? Sorry honey. Yeah, love you too. Jesus Steel, you couldn’t have at least called after dinner? My wife worked real hard on these banana tacos.” _

“Sorry Captain, it’s kind of difficult to know when suppertime is when you’re out in space.”

“ _ In space? You on some kinda mission to bring trouble to the whole system, Steel?” _

“I’ve been out here tracking down answers, and I think you’re gonna be interested in what I’ve found.”

_ “I dunno, Steel, with you things sometimes get a little  _ too _ interesting.” _

“You… might have a point there, but this is gonna be worth it, I promise. Don’t you want to know what happened to Pereyra? And what the hell went down in Newtown? Don’t you want to maybe see some of those potential infrastructural solutions to poverty and crime in Hyperion City?”

_ “What?! Pereyra! Newtown? What?!” _

“Two nights from now, at midnight, meet me in the map room, you know the one, and I’ll show you just how much I’ve learned from history.”

_ “Midnight? Exactly how old do you think I am, Steel? I haven’t see the top end of midnight since my huntin’ days! I’ll meet you there at nine pm, after I’ve put the kids to bed. And don’t keep me waitin’, I have to be in bed by ten o’clock or it throws off my circus writhing!” _

“Your...whatever you say, Captain.”

***

“Cass, it’s me.”

“ _ Juno? Shit, it’s good to hear from you.” _

“Same to you, Cassie.” Juno smiled. "How’s the show going?”

_ “Like shit. It’s amazing, Juno, I’ve met some of the most incredible people—I’m making fucking art here, and no one gives a shit. Or, maybe they  _ would, _ if I could get anyone to  _ see  _ it.” _

“Yeah, running away from the most influential TV company on Mars probably affected you viewership, huh?”

_ "Don’t make fun of me Juno, I’m not an idiot. But I thought  _ someone… _ I need a break, that’s all, one big show that’ll have everyone talking.” _

“Well, now that you mention it…”

***

“Sasha.”

_ “Juno?! Where the hell do you get off calling me like this! You  _ have _ to stop letting your secretary hack into Dark Matters! One of these days they’re going to come for you and I have to be honest I’m not sure I’ll even try to stop them—” _

“Sasha. It’s important.” Juno almost always sounded serious, but Peter had never heard that particular quiet gravity before. 

Agent W sighed, long and tired, but it came across more maternal than she was probably even aware.

_ “Okay Juno. But make it quick.” _

“Why did you join Dark Matters?”

_ “Wh—what?”  _ Agent W sounded genuinely caught off-guard—not something that happened to her often, Peter would wager.  _ “Juno, if you’re wasting my time—” _

“I’m not, I swear.” Juno’s voice dropped even lower. “C’mon, Sasha. Just tell me.”

She hesitated. 

“Sash.”

_ “Fine. I—well I… I suppose I wanted to… do good.”  _ She sounded like she was struggling to articulate such honest words, embarrassed to reveal the naivete of her motivation. _ “We had such a hard time of it, when we were kids, and there were so many other kids having a tough time and I thought—if I could just get out of there, make something of  _ myself _ , maybe… I could make a difference for someone else.”  _ There was a silence, and Peter heard the agent draw in a steading breath.  _ “Why are you asking me this, Juno? I assume there is a point?” _

“I have unequivocable evidence of the THEIA Soul, Pilot’s death, Ramses’ true identity, and the potential Newtown’s framework has to infinitely reduce poverty and crime in Hyperion City forever, and I’m planning on revealing it all via a pirated broadcast in three night’s time.”

_ “ _ You _ —!” _ Agent W cut herself off, and then came a resigned sigh.  _ “Of course you are. Of course! Never mind that there are procedures for such things, that maybe some people are actually working towards those goals the  _ right  _ way—” _

“Yeah, never mind that. What has the ‘right way’ ever gotten me, Sasha? How much did we care about the ‘right way’ when we were starving? You picked pockets right alongside us—and you were good at it, too. 

“I’m going to do this. It’ll go a lot smoother with your help, but you can’t stop me. It doesn’t matter how thing  _ should  _ be, only how they are. You taught me that. So; what are you going to do with how things are?”

There was silence. And then, begrudgingly:  _ “What do you  _ need _ me to do?” _

Juno smiled, and it was equal parts righteous adult and mischievous child. He’d never looked more beautiful. Much to her (frequent, verbal) consternation, he told her the plan. “...and once it’s all done you won’t have to see me for another fifteen years, I promise.” 

_ “If you live through this at all.”  _ Wire sounded like she was already resigned to his fate, but Juno was standing tall.

“And miss seeing how this plays out? Sasha—I’m gonna live through this if it kills me.” 

Peter realised he was grinning.

***

Juno was so tense he was almost vibrating as they descended towards the surface. There was no glimmer of wonder as he watched his home planet rise to meet them, only the weight of every one of its citizens on his shoulders. 

The plan was crazy. So many people had to be relied on to do their part exactly right, and that wasn’t a position Peter felt especially comfortable in. 

He and Juno were alone in the small shuttle; Vespa, Jet and Buddy were already completing their mission in Newtown, Rita remaining on their ship in orbit where she could monitor every electronic signal on the small red planet. 

They hit a spot of turbulence and the shuttle lurched. Peter heard Juno suck in a breath but something told him it wasn’t the detective’s usual flight jitters. A drop of sweat clung to his temple as his fingers tried to warp the titanium. 

Peter’s hand twitched involuntarily towards his companion, but he froze. Juno wouldn’t appreciate being coddled by Peter of all people. 

Hyperion City swirled out of the dust below them. Juno clenched his teeth and closed his eye. 

Peter’s hand landed on Juno’s shoulder.

Juno started almost violently, his eye snapping open. For a tense moment they stared at each other, that one point of contact holding them both still. Peter didn’t dare breathe, hating himself just a little for once again giving the beautiful lady the power to hurt him. Juno swallowed, still watching Peter, and then one hand hesitantly rose to cover Peter’s. 

Amazed, Peter squeezed a little. He thought, nonsensically, that this was the first time they had touched. Juno’s head thunked back against the seat and he let out a shaky breath, some of the tension finally slipped out of him. His hand was warm and dry where it rested over Peters. 

The roar of the reverse thrusters drowned out all thought, and with a great shudder they touched down. 

Juno didn’t let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> those of you who think i'm being terribly cryptic bc i'm hiding some masterful plot-driven climax are woefully overestimating me. my brain is just one very tired gremlin desperately trying to explain faulty code to a rubber duck. the "finale" is going to contain 5% plot, 45% juno interacting with kahn, and 50% peter falling in love with him all over again. and y'all are going to like it. or no martian dessert.
> 
> p.s. pholo, my girl, you have such good ideas. everyone thank her for the scene of peter touching juno, inarguably the best part of this chapter (besides omar motherfrackling kahn).
> 
> p.p.s. yall.... ur commemts.... i neeb them........
> 
> post-post-postscriptum: why can't you hear vicky's dialogue? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>   
> (i have no idea why. jesus take the wheel)  
> 


End file.
